


Santa's little helpers

by horseheadnebula



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-24
Updated: 2013-10-24
Packaged: 2017-12-30 08:47:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,291
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1016562
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/horseheadnebula/pseuds/horseheadnebula
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Christmas on the Enterprise, everyone is looking forward to it. But for two people, something's missing...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Santa's little helpers

Ensign Chekov loved Christmas. It reminded him of family gatherings, of laughter and well, love. So he should be glad that the season had come once again and was being observed on a ship where not all beings were human. But some thing was off this time. It took him a few days to figure it out, then it hit him, hard.

Dr McCoy had just left the bridge after his daily briefing with the captain, who was staring at the closed turbolift doors with an almost wistful expression. Chekov had some charts that needed to to be signed off, so he approached the daydreaming man.

“Keptan, I need...” he started, only to be interrupted by Jim.

“Don't we all?” he said softly, and the longing in his voice was unmistakeable. Chekov wasn't a certified genius for nothing, so the images connected in his brain and created the picture of Kirk and McCoy, smiling and- longing?! The startled sound the ensign involuntarily made jerked the captain's head around. He cleared his throat and turned to look at the young officer, going back to business in a heartbeat. But Pavel knew what he had seen.

 

About a week later, Yeoman Rand stepped up to the captain's desk while he was scribbling away on a piece of real paper. She smiled at this quirk of his, the old fashioned way he expressed his thoughts.

“Writing a list for Santa, Captain?” she asked.  
He flinched a little, which made him look like a boy caught with his hands in the cookie jar. It was outright adorable.

“A what?” He frowned. “Yeoman, I don't think anyone does that anymore. Where'd be the point, anyway?” And there it was again, the underlying bitterness that had tainted his more private conversations lately. While they were not exactly friends, they were close,it came with her job of taking care of all the minor, annoying routines that would otherwise block the Captain's time.  
She still couldn't grab the deeper aspects of him, but could gauge his moods pretty well. He was a brilliant tactician, a charismatic leader, but something vital was lacking lately, maybe the spark in his eyes or the easy readiness of his smile. Could it be that he was indeed wishing for something? Something he thought even he could not reach, or something from his less than desirable past? She went back to ship's business, but when the last topic had been cleared, she said:

”Why don't you try it? Write a list of your wishes, maybe it matters some, even if only to you. I do that sometimes, when I want to get clear on something.” At his skeptical, somewhat irritated look, she caved:” Just saying, sir. Sorry, sir. Anything else, sir?” Now Kirk was openly amused.

“No, Yeoman, that's all. Since it's only half an hour till beta shift, you can go and enjoy Chef's seasonal treats.” Janice thanked him and hurried to follow his suggestion.

Jim continued to read and take notes, but his thoughts kept wandering back to Rand's comment. It was a tempting, a wondrous idea. To put it out in the open, just once, just for himself. There was not a single soul in the universe, literally, to whom he could talk about this.  
It.  
That Thing.  
Yeah, right. He couldn't even say it to himself, that meant it was high time to do something about it. James T. Kirk might be still brash, occasionally clueless, but a coward he was not. He allowed the vague pictures in his mind to come to the front.

Bones, his hand wrote in bold letters. Friend, Center and Pillar. No lewd associations here, which he registered with slight astonishment. Thinking of his friend's warm smile, that always felt like it was only for him, he wrote Love. And Lover.

 

Christine Chapel was about to despair. That Dr McCoy was a grumpy bastard when the mood struck him was a given, but it usually happened sporadically and for a reason. This time- not. He'd been cantankerous for close to a week now, working about a shift and a half each day. Something was bothering him, Christine just knew it. She had resolved to wait it out, to lend quiet support and a quick retort when needed. It had worked so far, with the aid of lots of coffee and the open ears of her friends. But today had been too much.

He'd come in early, looking like death warmed over, with red- rimmed eyes over dark bags. There was nothing right today; the staff was too slow, the materials faulty and the patients insufferable. When he'd reduced an engineering ensign to tears, Christine had had enough. As soon as she'd finished treating and consoling the scared young man, she said briskly:

“A word in your office, sir.” Hazel eyes flashed green for a split second, a warning Christine chose to ignore for now. When the door had closed behind them, he sat down at his desk with an air of exhaustion that let Christine's anger not disappear but lessen considerably. While she still considered how to approach, his tired, rough voice interrupted her thoughts.

“Well? Go ahead, nurse. Call me on my abysmally bad bedside manner, make me feel guilty and be done with it. I've got work to do.” There was not so much defiance but resignation in that voice and that was just plain wrong. Christine sat down on his visitor's chair and decided to be blunt. He was a man, he could take it.

“What's eating you, Len? And don't you dare say 'nothing', or I'll have to treat you for delusions.” His wry smile, so hard to tell from a scowl, was familiar somehow, but new in it's vulnerability. For a moment he remained silent, then he sighed deeply and answered:

“'Tis nothing you could help me with, Christine. Just me being an old fool, is all.” He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “And if you'll have my apology, you got it. Can't promise to do a lot better, though. Believe me, I've tried.”

“Everybody would be in a foul mood if they worked themselves so hard, Len. I've seen you do it in a crisis, where it's necessary, but what we've got here right now is the epitome of smooth sailing. You don't have to tell me your reasons, but if there's anything I can do to help, anything at all, then please...” She broke off, clearly at a loss what to say. Maybe it was the genuine compassion in her eyes that prompted Leonard to try for an explanation.

“As I said, I'm being a damn fool. I'm missing my daughter, this time of year. Maybe that's just it. Yeah, that's all there is to it.”He seemed to be happy to have found an easy justification but again, Christine wasn't buying it. She was willing to let him of the hook, yet not to continue like this.

“Sort it out, Doctor. Do what you have to, to get it off your mind. You're my commanding officer, but I'm responsible for the patient's welfare, and right now, you're not helping with that.” It was a testament to their respect and friendship that Leonard wasn't insulted or hurt by her statement. Instead he nodded slowly.

“I know. I've let this go too far. I'll think of a solution, I promise.” With that he stood , to indicate that there was nothing more to say. Christine complied, vowing to herself to find a solution for him, if he didn't.

 

The next morning found Christine and Janice sharing a table for breakfast in the mess. They were chatting amiably when Leonard and Jim walked in, obviously in a passionate discussion. The women watched as it continued while the men collected their food and still went on when they sat down at a table in their line of view. Janice Rand was the first to notice the rapt attention McCoy paid to his partner, and she pointed it out to her friend.

“Look at that! So this is what has him all moping? Who'd have thought?”  
Christine needed a moment to switch topics, but then she got it. McCoy. Kirk. Kirk and McCoy.

“Oh yes! How could I've been so blind? With the way he's acting around him, always worrying and touching him so gently? Good gracious, Janice! This is...it's..”

“I know! And the Captain paying heed to him when no other can get him to, and all those touches and smiles...some sorry girls we are.” she laughed.

They looked at each other, then at the two men again, and slow smiles broke on their pretty faces.

“You wanna bet that they don't even know?” Christine asked.

“No. That's a given. Men!” Janice thought for a moment, still watching the captain and the doctor, who just reminded Jim to actually eat his breakfast. “So, what are we gonna do about it? They can't go on like this.”

“First I'd like to be onehundredandten percent certain that this is for real, cause I can't even begin to imagine the fallout if we're wrong.”

Just then Nyota Uhura passed their table. The women greeted each other and chatted for a moment, then the communications officer reminded them of the comm deadline.

“If you want to send greetings to your families, make sure to have your messages ready by 1800 ship's time tonight. We've only got a small window in which we can send them to earth, and the next opportunity might not arrive for weeks. We are heading into a nebula with lots of radiation and other interferences. Would you remind your COs, please? I'm late already.” With that she took her leave and the nurse and the yeoman looked at each other.

“Leonard always comms his aunt for any holiday. He once said she's the only one of his family he trusts. What if...” Christine said slowly. She didn't dare to spell it out, it was wrong on so many levels. Janice was a step ahead already.

“There's so much that can go wrong with a comm batch like that. If a message got copied into the wrong folder...let's say the Captain's...if he read it...”

“But Jan, that's breaking his trust! Or worse...” Christine was not sure the outcome would justify the means. She looked back at the other table, where Jim had gotten up and left. The look Leonard sent after him made her heart clench in sympathy. There was a longing in there, a resigned, quiet acceptance, that wasn't right at all. Maybe it would be worth it.

“How can we gain access to it? Aren't there like, guards and such? You don't think Nyota would help, do you? She's far too correct.”

Pavel Chekov had stood behind them for a few minutes and his ears had perked up at the mention of Dr McCoy and the Captain. Now he saw a chance to discuss his favorite theory.

“Ladies, are you having any proof of their feelings for each other?” he asked without any preamble and grinned broadly at their surprised faces. Janice recovered first.

“Not yet. But we shouldn't talk about it here. Let's meet after shift in my quarters and see if we can play matchmaker.” Her eyes met Christine's and they understood each other perfectly. The wizkid was a godsend. He and his magic hands. From the look on Pavel's face, he'd be only too happy to help.

 

The conversation in Yeoman Rand's cabin was short and to the point. All three conspirators agreed that they had to do what it took to help their superiors to get over their doubts and become the happy couple they should be. Pavel left to use a peripheral terminal to hack into the ships communication system and look for any outgoing entries from the Captain or McCoy.  
Janice took a bunch of paper from her desk and showed it to her friend.

“This I took from his 'trash pile'. I didn't have time to look through it so far. Let's see...”  
She blanched when she saw the piece of paper Jim had scribbled on the day before. Bones. Love.  
There was more, lines that looked like a poem, about hopeless feelings and the fear to be hurt. Oh yes, they'd been right. She showed it to Christine, who swallowed hard after reading it.

“We better be sure that it's reciprocated, then.” was all she said. Somehow, this had become very, very serious. Who'd have thought that their sunny- boy Captain was this vulnerable at heart?  
The door swished open and a breathless Pavel appeared. He bent over, panting, and stuck out a hand that held a PADD. Christine took it, looked at it and said:

“I can't. I've got to work with him every day.” Immediately Janice grabbed it.

“I hardly have to interact with him. I'll do it. But I need Pavel around to send it off if...”

So it happened. Christine left the two of them, taking the paper, she would drop accidentally in Leonard's vicinity if there was any indication that he felt the same for Jim, with her.

The message Leonard was sending to his aunt was a voice recording. Feeling a little guilty, Janice played it and the southern drawl filled the room, slightly rougher than usual.

“Hallo Clarissa. How ya doin'? I hope you're fine, that the bunch of retards we have to call relatives are not bothering you too much. I'm sending Jo's list to Santa and my vid to her with this, take the money you need from the same account as always.  
Yeah, the list. Got me thinking, that one. Made me wish to write one. Christ, I can almost hear you laughing. But your laughter's never cruel, so ...  
I need to tell someone. This time, I can't tell Jim. He's fine,by the way, I think. I'm not so sure...Sometimes I wonder...you know, last summer, when we visited you, and you asked me...it was the furthest from my mind.  
No, that's not true. But I didn't want it to be. Gosh, listen to me rambling! And no, I'm not drunk. Can't drink, can't sleep, can't...  
IthinkI'minlove. No, I think I...love. Him. Jim, that is. But what would he do with an old and bitter divorcee like me? I know what you said, I know what I feel, but I'm scared. Yes, me, scared. He's so beautiful, so strong and young- and he's been hurt so much. You think I can be who he needs me to be? I don't even know if he feels something beyond friendship for me, or if I'm imagining things. I wish...oh, how I wish...but will that be enough?” There were noises like he was pacing the room while talking, then he continued.  
“I'd give a years pay to talk to you face to face right now. Looks like I'll have to figure this one out by myself. I can't tell Jim. I couldn't live with his rejection, with losing him as a friend. But maybe...the way he looks at me...good god, it's driving me fucking insane! - Uhm, sorry, mam. Please, don't worry about me.  
Apart from this, life's good. Interesting work, nice enough people. Just missing Jo. And you. I'll go now, paperwork's calling. We're heading into radio silence, so it'll be a couple weeks at least till any answer you'll send will reach me. Hopefully I've sorted myself out by then...  
I love you, Aunty. Take care, have the best Christmas. Think of me when you light the candles. Bye.”

The silence after the recording finished was deafening. Pavel seemed to be close to tears, and Janice felt sad and giddy and more determined than ever to get this done.  
She hugged the young ensign and grinned when he blushed.

“Can you send this to the Captain without the addressee visible? Like, at the time the batch gets send, so he won't suspect anything?”

“Of course. That's child's play, Janice. In Russia....” he answered slightly indignantly, but was interrupted by the laughing Yeoman.

“Then do it. I'll call Chris to let her know she can drop her hint.” She did just that, while Pavel left to get to work.

An hour later it was all done. The copy of the recording had been caught up in the filters and been forwarded to the Captain's PADD. The paper had found it's way into a book on McCoy's desk, one that belonged to the Captain, who'd lent it to him. Now they'd have to wait.

 

Just around the beginning of gamma shift, Dr Leonard McCoy knocked on the door to the Captain's quarters. His hands were a little sweaty and he'd donned civvies, his most comfortable jeans and a dark green sweater of which Jim had once said that it made his eyes glitter like a cat's. He had thought about coming here for more than an hour, ever after he'd picked up the old philosophical text he meant to return to Jim and the scrap of paper fell out. He'd recognized the writing immediately and when the meaning of the words got through, he'd had to sit down.

Could this be real? Had he read his friend right after all? But what to do about it, how to proceed? He'd got up again, paced, long- fingered hands shaking a little. He'd recalled Jim's smile this very morning, his eyes, sparkling with laughter. To live without having that directed at him would kill him for sure, but they had mastered so much worse in the past four years. It was like this was the ultimate test for their trust- and love. Leonard's trust, really. He'd have to jump over his own shadow, the pain of past hurts, to find happiness again. And damn if he wouldn't try.

So there he was now, having no time to regain his composure any better before the door opened and he stared into Jim's face. Bones was the only one to knock instead of using the chime, so Jim had known who demanded entry. His eyes were a little red, but he looked as gorgeous as ever in his black uniform pants and regulation undershirt. When he put a hand on Leonard's shoulder and pulled him inside, the common touch suddenly meant so much more.

It was like everything fell into place, like they both knew that now, now, things would be finally right. They didn't notice the door sliding shut, only saw each other. Len's hands came up to grip Jim's narrow hips, and he asked only one word:

“Mine?”

“Yes. Yours.”

 

Sometime late in the night, Pavel hadn't been able to stand the anticipation anymore and he'd asked the computer for the location of Dr McCoy and the Captain. He was only eighteen after all. The Information he got made him smile like a loon. “The Captain's quarters.”, it 'd said. Now all was right in his world.

Janice and Christine learned about their success at breakfast, when they witnessed the entry of their victims into the mess hall. Both men were radiating an air of contentment, with McCoy smiling in a very satisfied way and Jim actually glowing. There was no other word for it, his eyes sparkled like they hadn't in months and he looked healthy and almost ridiculously young.

Both women froze when the men approached them, but relaxed at the Captain's teasing words:

“The pointed ears look good on you, Yeoman, but don't let Santa catch you.” And with a wink he was gone, pulling Bones with him and leaving the women to their hardly suppressed squeals of delight.


End file.
